By the Grace of
by Marwana
Summary: You have the stories in which one of the Shinigami's (Undertaker most of the time) adopt Harry, train him and help him defeat Voldemort. What would happen if Sebastian was Harry's father?
1. By the Grace of

_You know I noticed something: Harry is always the child of either one of the Shinigami (or adopted by one of the Shinigami) or in a relationship with Sebastian... So I wondered: what if Sebastian was Harry's father?  
Hence I wrote this :P_

_This is kind of the unofficial sequel of my story 'Fallen'. It can be read without reading that one though..._

_**Summary**: You have the stories in which one of the Shinigami's (Undertaker most of the time) adopt Harry, train him and help him defeat Voldemort. What would happen if Sebastian was Harry's father?_

_**Warnings**: Mentioning of rape..._

_**Disclaimer**: I don't own the rights to either Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) or Harry Potter._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

"I seem to have finally found you, my little demon," a soft, smooth baritone almost cooed and Harry whirled around as fast as he could while making sure that he didn't lose Riddle out of his line of sight. Luckily, Riddle seemed to have decided that the newcomer was more dangerous than a twelve year old boy without a wand and he too had turned around to face the voice, _his_ wand trained into the direction the voice had come from.

Harry waited with bated breath and tensed muscles as the sound of footsteps neared them. His eyes flicked towards Riddle. Did he know what was happening? The way he acted made him doubt that, but still one could never be _too_ sure.  
"Show yourself," Riddle commanded after a couple of seconds in which the person had yet to show himself.  
"Does the little demon want me to show myself?" the voice asked, clearly amused by the situation.  
"I order you to show yourself," Riddle nearly hissed as his eyes narrowed and Harry's wand shot green sparks thanks to his rage. Harry couldn't help but gulp as he noticed that the Slytherin's eyes had started to turn red.  
"I don't believe I was talking to you," a smirk was clearly heard in the intonation when the voice answered.

Harry blinked as the meaning of the man's – because it sounded as a man – words became clear to him.  
"Potter wants you to show yourself," Riddle's voice had gained an annoyed and high pitched quality to it, the latter similar to how Voldemort had sounded when he had met him last year.  
Harry just wished he could disappear. Preferably with a living and not possessed Ginny in tow.  
"Ah, ah," the voice sounded again, "I didn't hear him say that."

"Come out now or I _will_ kill you," Riddle said clearly angry before a dark smirk made his way onto his face, "or maybe I should just kill Potter. Would that make you come out of your hiding place, hm?"  
"I would like to see you try," the voice sounded after a couple of seconds. It still contained that amused tone but it had gained a certain quality that Harry recognized as one that meant that the speaker knew something they didn't. He just hoped that whatever the man knew it didn't end up with _him_ wounded – or dead.

Riddle snarled at the shadows before he trained the wand once again on Harry.  
"Last chance," he stated as the tip of the wand turned green.  
"Do you want me to show myself, my little demon?" the voice asked curiously. It took Harry a couple of seconds _before_ he realised that both men were waiting for his answer – which was slightly uncharacteristic from what he knew about Voldemort.  
"Er… yes?" he finally managed to say, though his voice sounded feeble and weak to his own ears.

The soft sound of shoes on stone sounded again and a tall – he easily reached the 1 meter 85 – and thin man dressed in the classic uniform of a butler stepped out of the shadows. His hair was as black as the shadows behind him and hung in slight disarray towards his shoulders. His eyes were the same bloody red as Tom Riddle sported on the moment but his seemed to glow and had a slight _diabolic_ gleam to them. The fact that his pupils were slit didn't really help either. His shoes were neatly polished and gleamed and his hands were covered by white gloves.  
"As my little demon wishes," he finally purred as he stopped a couple of meters away from them.

Riddle once again trained his wand on the man, "who are you and how did you get in here?"  
The man smirked, "Me? I'm just one _hell_ of a butler."

It was after his words that time seemed to get fast paced. Riddle had fired some kind of green spell in the general direction of the newcomer while the newcomer had somehow dived towards Riddle while dogging the spell – throwing something at the other while he dogged in a show of superior mobility. Harry sincerely doubted that the man was human.  
The only thing Harry could actually see from the very short and very violent fight that followed was the flashes of light that Riddle kept firing at the stranger and the black blur that the other man had become.

The fight was over in a little under twenty seconds and when the dust had settled and Harry's eyes had finally readjusted to the low light – the flashes of the spells had given him sunspots – all that was left of Riddle was a little black book, ripped to pieces and oozing ink.

The stranger dusted his clothing of – some ink had splattered on his shoes but he didn't seem to care – as he stared down on the book.  
Harry shifted slightly and the stranger's attention snapped towards him. He couldn't help but freeze under those terrifying red eyes – they frightened him more than Voldemort's ever had – as they studied him to check... something he wasn't quite sure about.

Finally after a couple of minutes of looking him over the other opened his mouth, "you were quite the surprise, my little demon."  
Harry blinked at him, still too surprised by the turn of events and too weary and frightened to do much more than study the man for eventual attacks.

The first thing he noticed was that the man's eyes had darkened to a dark red – almost brown – colour and that his pupils had become round. Not that _that_ helped him calm down.  
The second thing he noticed was that the man was relaxed and that he kept his hands visible as if to show that he was not a threat. Harry didn't quite believe the posture, not after he had seen the man move meters in a blink of an eye.

The man took a couple of steps forward but stopped as he noticed the almost rabbit-like actions – Harry had been about ready to bolt as soon as the man had started to move – of the young boy in front of him.  
"I'm not going to hurt you," the man stated amused but Harry kept watching him wearily.

Another silence fell, only broken by the soft dripping of the water in the Chamber and Harry's fast, shallow breaths as he kept his attention on the man. The other just watched him, completely amused by him though there was something else in his eyes too. Something Harry didn't even try to figure out.

The silence was finally broken by the sound of Ginny regaining her consciousness.  
"It seems I'll be leaving you at this point," the stranger said casually, "but know this: now that I've found you I won't lose sight of you again!"  
He seemed to fade away before his very eyes as the man stepped closer to the shadows, "I'll be watching you."  
Harry stumbled back as those words only to whirl around at the sound of someone moving behind him.  
He breathed out a sigh of relieve as he noticed that it was just Ginny.

The man was gone when he turned around again.

**oOoOoOo  
**  
It was a couple of years later that the man reappeared. Or maybe 'showed himself again' was a better term, as Harry had always felt as if he was being watched ever since the man had first appeared to him in the Chamber of Secrets.

It had been a couple of minutes after Voldemort's resurrection and he had been lecturing his followers and taunting Harry when a particularly loud caw of a crow had been followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground just behind the gravestone Harry was tied to.

Voldemort fell silent and turned towards the gravestone – and thus Harry, but he ignored him – as he ordered sharply in his high, cruel voice, "Crabbe, take a look."  
One of the Death Eaters bowed lowly before he made his way over towards Harry and started to circle around the gravestone. It didn't take long before he had disappeared completely out of Harry's line of sight.

Everything was silent except for the soft breathing of the people in the graveyard and the sound of Crabbe's heavy footsteps and his feet disturbing the dead leaves on the ground.  
It was a couple of minutes later that the man returned to his place in the circle, unharmed and empty-handed.

Voldemort took this as a sign that there was nothing out of the ordinary and that they were alone – well, except for the small party around him and Harry – and continued with his speech about his own greatness.  
It wasn't long after that, that he turned towards Harry and Harry felt a spike of pain shoot through him originating from his already burning scar.  
"Harry Potter," he said softly as he made his way over towards the boy, "only known survivor of the Killing Curse."  
Silence fell as he stopped right in front of him, not that Harry could see him very well through his pain blurred vision.

"Why did you survive when no one has before? That question kept me busy all the time when I was just a spirit," Voldemort continued, "but the answer is so simple. It's all thanks to the sacrifice of your mudblood mother."  
The Death Eaters burst out in loud, vindictive laughter but Harry ignored them all as he tried to glare towards the blurry blob than he knew to be Voldemort.  
"And now I've the very same blood that contains the sacrifice flowing through me," Voldemort stated darkly amused as soon as the Death Eaters had fallen silent, "which means that I should be able to do _this_."  
As soon as he was finished with speaking he lifted his hand and deftly pressed a single finger against Harry's forehead.

Harry's head felt as if it was about to burst open as the pain flashed through him and his vision turned completely black. But he was aware enough to vaguely hear the high laughter of Voldemort and the cruel laughter of the Death Eaters.  
And he was most definitely aware enough to hear the soft, "not quite." which – even though it was softly spoken – seemed to be heard by everyone present.  
The laughter died down almost immediately.

Voldemort withdrew his finger from his forehead, which caused the pain to lessen and as the pain slowly lessened it finally clicked inside Harry where he had heard _that_ voice before.  
He closed his eyes as the memories of _that_ evening came back to him and he shuddered. He hasn't felt safe ever since he had met the man he had met that day.

"Show yourself," Voldemort snarled angrily as he drew his wand and pointed it towards the direction the voice came from.  
"This brings back memories," the voice commented lightly and it sounded as if it was moving, "does the little demon want me to show myself?"  
A smirk could be heard in the voice and Voldemort shot some kind of red spell towards the last location of the voice.  
"Hm, missed me," the voice said amused, "want to try again?"  
"I want you to show yourself," the snakelike man hissed.  
"Ah, but it doesn't matter to me as to what _you_ want," the man said, "I only care about what my little demon _wants_. But seeing as he is a bit tied up… very well, I'll show myself."

And just like two years ago he appeared out of the shadows, though this time the shadow was cast by a large tombstone. The man hadn't changed a bit. His hair was the same length, his cloths seemed to be the same and his eyes, while not the frightening red with the slit pupils, had the same diabolic gleam in them.  
All wands were trained upon him the moment he had appeared but he still made his way over towards the small group.  
"I suggest you stop and explain why you are here," Voldemort stated neutrally.  
The man stopped behind one of the lower gravestones, about ten meter from the Death Eaters.  
"Why I am here?" the man asked as he cocked his head slightly, closed one of his eyes and placed a finger against his lips, "the 'why' is actually chained to a gravestone."  
Voldemort turned towards Harry, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"Are you here to free him?" he finally asked as he turned his attention back towards the stranger.  
"Now why would you think that?" the man asked darkly amused as he started to walk again and rounded the low gravestone until he stood in front of the small group.  
"Stop, or I _will_ kill him," Voldemort threatened.  
"You will try," the other said, a dark smirk curling his lips.

Voldemort snarled at him – a crazed gleam in his eyes – before he turned back to Harry, "_Avada Kedavra_!"  
Harry eyes widened as the green beam left the wand and made its way over towards him. There was no way he could escape it when he was chained to a gravestone but he wiggled in an attempt to get loose anyway.

Suddenly a black blur made its way over towards him and the spell – which should have hit him – hit the stranger whom had dived in front of him.  
Harry expected the man to drop dead as soon as he had realised the Killing Curse had hit the other but the man remained standing in front of him, _alive_.  
"Demon," Voldemort hissed sharply and he barred his teeth.

Harry stiffened slightly at the term as the many stories he had been told about the inhabitants of Hell sprung forth in his mind, not one of them positive or good. The worst thing was that his aunt and uncle – who weren't even that religious – always told him that he would be going to Hell after he died and that the demons would enjoy torturing him.

"Why does one of the darkest creatures to ever roam Earth defend a light wizard?" Voldemort asked and Harry could hear the curiosity in his voice. It seemed that the Dark Lord had relaxed after his initial shock, though his wand was still pointed towards the black-clad creature in front of him.  
"He is mine," the man – _demon_ – drawled silkily, "and what kind of butler would I be if I couldn't even defend what belongs to me?"  
Voldemort stared nonplussed at him, "you made a contract with him?"  
Harry couldn't see the demon's face but the fact that the Death Eaters he _could_ see twitched and flinched said enough.  
"Not quite," the demon said mockingly though the amusement had returned, "want to guess again?"  
"So you're not collared," Voldemort murmured pensively, "but you still defend a human."

The demon turned around until he came face to face with Harry, his back turned towards Voldemort and the Death Eaters.  
"Let's continue this in a more… _comfortable_ place, shall we?" the demon murmured and, with a flick of his hand, the ropes around Harry disappeared.  
Harry felt himself fall forward as the ropes supporting him suddenly disappeared and his leg gave out underneath him. Just as sudden as the ropes had disappeared did he find himself bridal style in the arms of the demon.

Harry started to squirm immediately but the demon just tightened his grip on him and forced his head in the crook of his neck. This only made Harry squirm harder but - as he was already weak and sore thanks to the spider, the still oozing wound on his arm, Voldemort touching his scar, the fact that he been tied to a gravestone and the magic he had had to use - his movements became sluggish and weak rather quickly. After a couple of seconds he stopped his fighting and relaxed unwillingly back into the tight hold. His eyes closed not long after that.

"Where is your base of operation?" the demon asked Voldemort as soon as Harry lay almost limp in his arms.  
"The mansion," Voldemort answered and even though he was tired Harry still heard the irritated and angry tones in his voice.

The demon started to move, mindful of his precious burden and Harry could hear the footsteps of the men following them.  
The smooth swaying of the demon's walk combined with the soft lull of the background noises and his tiredness soon made him doze away, even though he knew that that was the worst thing which could happen.

**oOoOoOo  
**  
Voldemort watched silently as the demon – he hadn't asked his name and he doubted that he would get the being's real name if he did – placed the sleeping brat-who-wouldn't-die down on one of the many, dusty couches the parlour contained before he took one of the blankets and tugged him in.  
It was _strange_ to see a creature as dangerous as a demon care for such a slip of a boy, especially because he seemed to care _genuinely_ for the child. Voldemort wondered what kind of demon this one was: the born kind of the fallen kind.

He had sent the Death Eaters away as they were not useful on the moment. He was more than aware that the demon could kill him even when he did have his followers around him and he couldn't give them their orders when the Potter boy was still around.

"You mentioned that he belongs to you," Voldemort stated, genuinely curious, as soon as the demon had seated himself gracefully next to the sleeping child, "but you aren't contracted to him. So how does he belong to you?"  
The demon chuckled amused, "humans can belong to us in multiple ways. When we are collared as you call it, their soul belongs to us. Care to guess for the other ways they can belong to us?"  
Voldemort frowned at him as he sunk into his thoughts and memories. He could admit to himself that he didn't know a lot about demons but he was planning on rectifying that now that he had met one.  
"I would say 'body, mind and soul'," he murmured pensively.  
"You missed one," the demon said and he bared his sharp teeth in a grin before he added, "he is mine by blood."

He blinked at him, honestly surprised by the answer, "how can he belong to you by blood?"  
"I'm only telling you this because I do not want to kill you. You and your followers amuse me after all," the demon smirked darkly, "my last contractor was a witch. A jealous witch who wanted to marry the man of her dreams: James Potter."  
"You were contracted to Lily Potter?" Voldemort gaped at him.  
"No, I wasn't contracted to Lily Potter," the demon told him, "it doesn't matter who I was contracted to, all that is important is that she ordered me to split up James and Lily Potter in such a way that he would never want her back. On her orders I tried a lot of things. Nothing worked so the witch ordered me to do the one thing which would break up any marriage. She ordered me to get her pregnant."

"You raped her," he deadpanned.  
The demon threw his head back and laughed, "would that surprise you?"  
"No," Voldemort admitted, "it really wouldn't surprise me."  
"But no, I didn't rape her," the creature told him, "we demons are seductive creatures, not unlike your vampires. It wasn't hard to convince her to have sex with me – and to continue with having sex with me – until I got her pregnant."

"But Potter didn't divorce her," Voldemort told him confused.  
"He didn't," the demon said with a slightly puzzled look, "she told him of the fact that she had slept with me and she told him that she was pregnant with _my_ child – though she didn't know who or what I was. But while he didn't like it, he accepted her apologizes and when my little demon was born he loved him like he was his own child."

Voldemort stared at the boy resting peacefully, "so he is part demon."  
The demon hummed lightly in response.  
"Why do you care for him?" Voldemort asked genuine curious, "aren't demons supposed to be cold, cruel beings?"  
"We rarely procreate," the demon told him, "so every child we get is precious to us."

"Why are you telling me this?" Voldemort asked, suddenly suspicious. He had acted terribly out of character for him when he had allowed the demon in the mansion and he wanted to know why the demon had told him all this. Because there had to be a point somewhere.  
"Like I said: I don't want to kill you, you are amusing," the demon stated as the dark smirk returned and his eyes turned to the bloody red, slit eyes that had given away what he was, "but, I'll have to if you keep threatening my child."  
"You want me to stop trying to kill him," Voldemort hissed and he narrowed his eyes, "you ask of me to let the one person who can vanquish me live."  
"I ask nothing of you," the demon growled lowly and Voldemort shrank back slightly as the room darkened and black feathers started to descent from above, "you have a choice: either you stop coming after him or you die."  
"I'll stop hunting him," Voldemort conceded, aware that the demon would kill him if he _didn't_ stop hunting the boy.

The demon bared his teeth at him in a mockery of a smile, "good."  
He rose from the couch and gathered the boy in his arms before he stalked away through the door without looking back.  
"Does he know?" Voldemort called after him, aware that the demon would hear him.  
The demon stopped and turned slightly towards him, "no, he does not know."

Voldemort watched pensively as the demon turned back around and continued walking. He would have to change his plans.

* * *

_I hope you guys enjoyed this story!_

_I might add another chapter in which Harry finds out about the fact that Sebastian is his father... but that will be once I feel like writing it and/or if you guys like this story..._

_Reviews are very much appreciated,_  
_~Marwana_


	2. Teachers

_Okay, I decided to write the part in which Harry finds out that James Potter is not his father... Sadly enough the chapter got longer and longer until it suddenly reached the 8000 word mark and I decided to split it up into two parts. The sad part is that this part doesn't contain the shocking surprise but this part does have some other... surprising things!_

_People asked me if Ciel will appear: most likely not unless I plan to write the third part I might right (not going to tell you yet what that third part is about...)._  
_Why I won't add him: Alois Trancy._  
_When season 1 ended and it appeared as if Ciel would... well die (I doubt people can live without their soul) I was of course kind of sad that there wouldn't be another season. And that is rare, I rarely have the patience to keep watching an anime show... I prefer the manga's most of the time._  
_So I was happy that there was a season 2. Until Alois Trance showed up. I watched a couple of episodes because his behaviour in the first episode might just be a one-time thing. But no such thing._  
_So I quit watching as I truly disliked Alois Trancy. I liked Claude Faustus (though he is somewhat of a copycat) and the fact that Ciel en Sebastian were still Ciel and Sebastian but I just truly hated Trancy!_  
_So for this story I'll stick with the end of season 1: Sebastian ate Ciel's soul._

_**Summary**: You have the stories in which one of the Shinigami's (Undertaker most of the time) adopt Harry, train him and help him defeat Voldemort. What would happen if Sebastian was Harry's father?_

_**Warnings**: Mentions of death and gore and blood..._

_**Disclaimer**: I don't own the rights to either Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) or Harry Potter._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

The summer before his fifth year was the weirdest and most confusing summer so far as he was bothered by the many questions and the strange things that happened around him which kept spinning around in his head. The fact that he had nothing to do just made it worse.

The first thing that haunted him was the fact that he just didn't know what happened between the time he had fallen asleep in the presence of the man who wanted him dead and a demon and the time he had woken up in the Hospital Wing.  
And that was what bothered him the most: why was he still alive? Why hadn't Voldemort killed him? Had the demon done something? Or were the demon and Voldemort working together to end him?

Dumbledore had asked him what happened but all Harry had been able to tell him was that Voldemort had returned and that he had no idea what had happened after that. Nor could he explain just _why_ he had managed to get himself a butler who wouldn't leave him alone.  
Ron had been jealous and Hermione seemed to find it strange but Dumbledore let the demon – though no one seemed to be aware of the fact that he was a demon – near because the creature had told them that he had saved Harry from Voldemort. The others had looked at him strangely as they believed him to be a muggle or a squib but the fact that Harry was still alive seemed to somehow mean that Michaelis was speaking the truth.  
Harry had protested a lot but it seemed as if he was stuck with the damned creature.

The second thing that bothered was the fact that the demon was always near him – visibly this time. He had yet to have even a single second alone; he woke up underneath the watchful gaze of the damn creature, he was dressed by said damn creature and he ate with the demon near him. He couldn't even go to the bathroom without being followed by the God-forsaken creature!

The first time the demon had followed him into the bathroom had been an absolute nightmare. Harry had been barely awake when he had stepped underneath the shower in the Hospital Wing, only to jump out of his skin when hot, bare hands had started to wash his hair. He had turned around to scream at whoever it was to get out when he had met the amused, dark red eyes and froze like a deer in headlights. The demon had still been fully clothed – though he had gotten rid of the white gloves and the formal jacket – but he didn't seem to care that his elegant clothing was getting completely soaked.  
Harry had finally managed to stutter that he wanted to be alone but the demon had just smiled that closemouthed smile, turned him around and continued washing him like he was some small child.  
He been completely mortified by the time the demon had turned off the shower and had wrapped him up in a large towel. Especially as he hadn't even been allowed to dry himself of or cloth himself.  
The demon had been surprised when he had finally managed to stop stuttering and had yelled at him that it was not normal for a fully grown man to help a teenager shower and dress. In the end the creature had just shrugged before he shot him another amused, closemouthed smile and showed up the very next day to help him once again with showering.  
After the fifth time Harry had given up yelling at the thing and just let him be. Though he still hated it.

The third thing that couldn't leave him alone was that the demon had also taken over every single task Harry had to do. It wasn't exactly a bad thing as he could laze around but it left him with nothing to do but his homework and stewing in his own somewhat destructive thoughts.

When Michaelis had first appeared with Harry the Dursleys had been horrified and they had forcefully tried to get him to leave. They had stopped rather quickly with that though when they had found out that he was a) some kind of magical creature – they did not know what kind of creature he actually was – and b) far more useful to have around than Harry. The only downside was that he was always near Harry and that he only took care of the chores Harry had been forced to do for the last decade or so and nothing else. The other aspects they disliked was that Michaelis always gave Harry the best dishes even though they had tried to forbid him from doing so – they had found out he was a magical creature the one time they had tried to force Harry to hand over the food he had been given – and that he ignored every single order they tried to give him. And of course the fact that he was a magical being, but they seemed able to ignore that as the demon didn't look like a magical creature, rarely showed that side of him and was an effective and fast worker.

Harry couldn't help but wonder just exactly _why_ the demon stayed near him. Was it because he wanted to torture him like the Dursleys had always told him? Or was it because of some other reason?

The fourth thing which wouldn't leave his mind was the time when he had been accosted by two Dementors. Harry had been ready to defend himself when the two soul-eaters had appeared but the demon had calmly stepped in front of him only to drive him towards a corner with no way out as the infuriating demon had blocked the only way out of the corner. He had then ordered him in a smooth baritone to close his eyes and keep them closed until he was told he could open them again. Harry had tried to protest against the order but one look at the suddenly demonic eyes – as he had dubbed the bloody red, slit eyes – had him obeying said order.  
When he had finally been allowed to open his eyes again he had stared around with his eyes wide and his mouth open in confusion and surprise but most of all fear. Because in front of him was all that was left of two of the most dangerous creatures he had ever heard of – two completely shredded capes, some puddles on the ground filled with gore and some kind of darkish liquid and drops of the same gore and liquid and bits and pieces of the Dementors everywhere – and one still clean but smugly smiling demon.  
Harry had been sick for days after that particular incident and he still couldn't look at the demon without feeling fear creep up his spine. It didn't exactly help that the hands that had ripped the feared guards of the worst prison ever apart were used to clean his body.

The being scared him more than Voldemort ever could and Michaelis seemed to be completely on his side on the moment.

All those things didn't exactly calm his nerves and the fact that he was now staying in a dark, dank, dirty and dusty house with his mass-murdering godfather – who was actually innocent – and a large family of redheads, a muggleborn witch, an ancient, crazy house-elf, a screaming portrait and one crazy demon and finding out that the Ministry not only didn't believe him when he said that Voldemort had returned and that they blamed _him_ for the demise of the two Dementors made it only worse.

In the end, the Ministry couldn't convict him for anything. His wand came up clean, their sensor came up clean and even under Veritaserum did he keep to his word that he had no idea how the Dementors ended up in pieces. Add that not even the Unspeakables knew of a way to kill Dementors and they had to drop all of the charges they had managed to think of.  
Sadly enough, being freed of all charges didn't mean that they believed him and his name was still dragged through the mud by the press.

Yes, weirdest summer ever.

**oOo  
**  
The school year started as every other year. The new students were sorted and the new teachers were introduced. But that was where the normality ended. The new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher held some kind of speech, Sebastian Michaelis was introduced as Harry's new butler and personal servant – which only caused people to either look weirdly at him or to protest as they saw it as him being favoured by the Headmaster, no matter how much Harry protested that he didn't like it either – and people wouldn't stop looking at him like he was some kind of deranged freak.  
Add that Dumbledore was ignoring him and that the demon was still treating him like he was some kind of small child and Harry didn't know what to do with all the angry energy fluctuating just underneath his skin.

That angry energy exploded from him on the first day during the first DADA lesson when he shouted at the pink toad from Hell – though the demon told him that she didn't actually come from Hell – that Voldemort _was_ back. She just looked at him before she told him sweetly that he shouldn't lie and gave him a detention.

So that was how he ended up in the worst place ever: an office coated in pink and decorated with plates and tiles with kittens on them. The only normal things were the large, wooden desk in the middle of the office and the stone fireplace.  
The toad was seated in a large, gilded chair behind the desk and she looked up as he entered.

"Take a seat, mister Potter," she told him sweetly and Harry walked forward grudgingly and sat down on the chair she had indicated. The demon had entered after him and gracefully made his way forward until he stood at attention at his right hand just behind the chair.  
"Mister Michaelis, I must ask you to leave," the woman simpered, "you see, I believe in equality so it is hardly fair that mister Potter had his own servant, now is it?"  
"I am sorry madam, but it is the task of a butler to stay with his charge," the demon told her smoothly before he cocked his head and placed one of his fingers against his lips as he smiled that closemouthed smile of his, "and what kind of butler would I be if I couldn't do that?"  
Umbridge looked flustered and she blushed lightly – which was beyond gross and horrifying – but she managed to say, "I have to insist."

The demon bowed forward until his lips almost touched Harry's ear and Harry couldn't help the shiver that ran along his spine as Michaelis said, "does my little demon want me to leave?"  
"Just leave," Harry managed to say warily.  
"As you wish," the demon said and with another respectful bow left the room.

"Now that that is taken care of," the toad said sweetly as she finally managed to wrestle her control back, "I want you to write the line 'I must not tell lies'."  
She took a scroll of parchment and a black quill from besides her and shoved them towards him.  
"How often?" Harry asked her.  
"Until the message sinks in, I believe," Umbridge told him and that sugary sweet smile appeared on her face.

Harry couldn't stop the shudder of disgust that raced through his body but he took the quill and quickly scanned the desk for ink.  
"You haven't given me ink," he said after a couple of seconds, before he added, "professor."  
"You won't need it," she told him and he couldn't help the small thrill of fear that shot through him at the malicious, satisfied tone of her words.

He warily placed the quill on the parchment and started to write, only to gasp in pain and shock as he felt small pinpricks of pain originating from his right hand, the hand he was using to write the sentences down.  
He looked towards his hand and gasped again as he noticed that the words he had written down had also appeared on his hand.  
His head shot up so he could look at the woman and he opened his mouth to say something but he quickly clicked it shut as he noticed the satisfied look in her eyes.

"Is there a problem, mister Potter?" she asked.  
He gritted his teeth and said, "no, professor."  
"That why don't you continue," she simpered.  
Harry ground his teeth together but did as she ordered and wrote down the sentence down again and again while ignoring the sharp pain and the blood that started to flow when he had finished his thirtieth sentence.

It was four hours and over seventy sentences later that she finally made him stop.  
She forcefully grabbed his hand and pulled it towards her, squeezing his hand and forcing more blood to flow from the wound as she inspected the deep scratches.  
"Yes, I believe this will do," she murmured softly as she released his hand, "same time tomorrow, mister Potter."  
"Yes, professor," Harry managed to say before he stood and left the office in a hurry.

He didn't notice the demon resting against the wall as he stormed past him and he didn't notice that suddenly red, slit eyes that immediately latched onto his bleeding hand.  
The only thing he notice was the dull throbbing of his hand and the blood that seeped along his hand and onto the floor.

**oOo  
**  
It was that same evening that people started to become wary of the demon.

Seamus had been bothering Harry about what exactly had happened during the last task of the Triwizard Tournament and Harry had exploded.  
"It's fine if you won't believe me," he shouted at the other boy as he furiously ripped his Gryffindor tie away while ignoring the deft hands that had started to unbutton his shirt, "but I did _not_ kill Cedric!"  
He slapped the demon's hands away – smearing blood on his otherwise spotless gloves – and stormed off towards the bathroom, but not before he heard Seamus grumble, "attention seeking prat, it's not like he told us what truly happened. And why does he even have a servant? Too good to do the normal things like undressing himself?"

He slammed the door close after him, locked it and rested his head against the mirror for a couple of minutes of blessed silence - to enjoy the fact that he was finally alone - before he continued with undressing and making himself ready to go to bed.

When he emerged from the bathroom some twenty minutes later it was to the deadly pale faces of his roommates and the dark smirk and bright, amused eyes of the demon.  
He looked around in suspicion – his gaze moving from person to person – before he shrugged and walked towards his bed so he could get some sleep.

The demon approached him under the fearful eyes of his roommates – whom quickly turned their gaze away as soon as the demon cocked his head slightly towards them – and crouched down before him. He took his wounded hand gently to check the damage.  
Harry watched his roommates in curiosity, as not even Ron dared to meet his eyes, only to stiffen in surprise as he suddenly felt a dextrous tongue lick the wounds.  
"What are you doing?" he whispered harshly and he tried to retract his hand.  
But the demon just adjusted his grip and pulled his head slightly back so he could look at him. His eyes were once again filled with amusement – as seemed to be his wont – though they had turned to their demonic red.  
"Cleaning your wound," he purred, "can't have my little demon get some infection, now can I? Nor can I have scars mar your skin."

Harry stared at him in complete bewilderment as the demon once again lowered his head and licked his wound until all the blood was gone and the scratches had stopped bleeding.  
It was only then that the demon released his hand – which Harry quickly cradled against his chest – and rose from where he had kneeled down.  
"Do you need anything else?" the creature murmured softly and Harry quickly shook his head.  
"Good," he said briskly before he added, "don't hesitate to call me if you need anything."  
Harry just blinked at him before he quickly crawled underneath the blankets, ready to leave the horrible day behind him.  
Michaelis tucked him in – much to his mortification – before he had bowed gracefully and left the room to do whatever demons did once they weren't bothering innocent fifteen year olds.

A tense silence fell in the dorm room until it was finally broken by the hesitant words of Ron, "are you sure that he is human?"  
"Why?" Harry asked warily.  
"It's just-" Ron tried to say but Seamus interrupted him harshly, "he's bloody scary! He fucking _threatened_ us! What is he?"  
"A demon disguised as a human," Harry answered dryly, aware that they wouldn't believe him.  
"No seriously, what is he?" Seamus repeated.  
Harry just shrugged as he had known that he couldn't possible convince them, "I don't know. A crazy person?"

The boys grumbled but they dropped the issue, aware that they wouldn't get more information out of Harry. But Harry noticed that – after that evening - they fell silent and their eyes grew wide and fearful every time the demon turned to look at them.

**oOo  
**  
The next day Umbridge was found dead in her office by a brave third year Hufflepuff who had gone into her office to look for the woman when the teacher failed to show up for her class.  
Silver cutlery knifes were sticking out of multiple places in her body – including both her hands – and her body was liberally coated in blood. The only piece of her that was still visible through all the blood was her head, though a dark brown, strangely gleaming quill had been forced through her left eye and a lopsided pentagram was cut into her right eye.  
A large, black feather lay on her chest. It gleamed otherworldly in the light and it had a strangely malicious aura.

It didn't take long before the screams of the horrified third year student reached the ears of another teacher and it was soon after that every student was sent to their Common Room, the poor student who had found her was sent to the Hospital Wing and the Aurors were called to investigate.

After a couple of minutes they had determined that it was either the quill in her eye or the silver knife through the heart that had been the cause of her death.  
They also managed to identify the quill as a so called blood quill, a dark item which was used in the Dark Period of their history to either steal the blood of people to use for Blood Magic or to torture a person. Nowadays it was used by the goblins to verify if someone was truly who they said they were.  
The last thing they managed to establish was that the feather they found on the body belonged to no being found on Earth. It contained truly dark, dangerous and malicious magic but even the Unspeakable they had dragged into the investigation to identify it didn't know to what unearthly creature it belonged.

They also didn't seem to know what to make of either the strange feather or the pentagram cut onto her eye but they decided that it was just the signature left behind by the killer.

Harry – who had been the last known person to see her before her gruesome murder – was interrogated but he knew nothing about her murder except what everyone else knew.  
In the end the Aurors had to concluded that she was murdered by muggle means - as no magic could be detected except for the spells Umbridge had fired towards her attacker - and the case remained unsolved as they didn't know what to think of the strange feather or the pentagram.  
But Harry had his own supposition, though he never mentioned it or shared it with anyone.

The students and the staff of Hogwarts remained tense and on their guard and many measures were taken to make sure that no student would be killed – not unlike during the opening of the Chamber of Secrets in Harry's second year – but after a couple of weeks in which no one else had been murdered the defences were lowered and people started to roam the school alone again.

A new teacher was hired not long after the murder and life in the school went back to normal.

**oOo  
**  
Hermione became suspicious of Michaelis a couple of weeks after the murder.

She had noticed the strange reaction of the boys towards the demon and she had seen the fear that appeared in Harry's eyes every time he had to look at him. She had also seen the strange distaste Harry had for the way the being treated him.

But what truly made her look at him weirdly were the things the demon said.  
The sentence "one Hell of a butler" was spoken rather often by the arrogant creature and it was always followed by a strange smile and a gleam in his eyes.  
Not only that but the demon spoke of happenings in the past as if he had been there. Add that he had a frightening large amount of knowledge of things he couldn't know either due to his seemingly age or due to the fact that they were obscure or inside someone's mind and Harry suddenly had one suspicious Hermione studying the demon – not that he minded.

She had waited and collected information before she finally confronted both of them on a rainy Wednesday.

"We need to talk," Hermione said sternly as soon as she had neared the table Harry and Ron were seated at.  
"About?" Harry said distractedly as he watched his pawn get clobbered by Ron's knight, "Knight to E7."  
Hermione looked around before she said softly, "your servant."  
Harry finally looked up, only to notice that the demon wasn't near him, "what about him?"  
"Not here!" she hissed, "come on. I know an empty classroom nearby."  
Harry rose from his seat and Ron made to follow his example but Hermione gestured for him to stay seated. Ron grumbled but one pleading look from Hermione had him caving in.  
"We'll finish the game as soon as I'm back, all right?" Harry told him before he followed Hermione out of the common room and into the empty classroom. He studied the dusty blackboard – which contained some writing about a way to transfigure animals to inanimate objects – before he turned towards the brunette.

"What about Michaelis?" Harry asked her stiffly.  
"Why is he always near you? Why does he treat you like a small child? And why does he call you 'his little demon'? Why do you fear him? Why does Ron – and the rest of your roommates – fear him? What's with that sentence of him being 'one hell of a butler'?" she took a pause to breath, "why does he seem to know so much? Where is he from? How did he stop Voldemort from killing you? What is he? Muggle? Squib?"  
Harry raised his hand.  
"I don't know," he answered softly, "he just showed up one day and he just… stuck around. Dumbledore let him."  
"That doesn't answer my question," Hermione pointed out.

"I don't know how he stopped Voldemort," Harry said as he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly, "and I don't know why. I also don't know why Ron, Seamus, Neville and Dean fear him. According to Seamus he threatened them but no one wants to tell me with what."  
"Why didn't you tell Dumbledore?" Hermione asked suspiciously.  
"I wanted to but Ron stopped me," Harry said as he replaced his glasses.

"Then why is he still here?" Hermione asked, "why didn't you fire him?"  
"I don't even pay him," Harry laughed mirthlessly, "I don't even want him here!"  
"Then why-?" Hermione started to ask but the door of the classroom opened to show the very being they were talking about.

"There you are," he purred as he entered the room fully, "I was looking for you."  
"Why?" Harry asked warily.  
"What kind of butler would I be if I lost sight of my little demon?" Michaelis said and his lips twitched into a half smile.  
"Harry," Hermione hissed from beside him.  
"Could you leave us for a moment?" Harry asked softly.  
"Of course," the demon murmured and he bowed politely – his hand placed on his chest above his heart – before he left the room. He closed the door behind him.

They waited in silence for a while before Hermione finally spoke.  
"That door was locked," she whispered shakily, "I spelled it locked and placed wards on it to make sure no one could hear us and no one would think of seeking us in here. How did he find us?"  
"I-," Harry said hesitantly," he-"  
"You know what he is, don't you," Hermione said shrewdly, "but you don't want to tell me."  
"Yes," Harry admitted softly, "it's not that I don't want to tell you but…"  
"You can't," Hermione finished.  
"Yes," Harry said tiredly.  
"Is he dangerous?" Hermione asked.

Harry laughed hollowly and said, "let's get back to the common room, shall we?"  
Hermione searched his face and it was clear that she didn't like what she read there but she nodded and together they made their way out of the classroom, only to be met with the darkly amused gaze of a certain demon.

"Finished your talk?" he drawled.  
"Yes," Harry answered curtly as Hermione once again studied the being in front of her.  
The demon's amusement seemed to rise a notch and a smile made its way onto his lips.  
"Can I help you, miss Granger?" he asked and he raised an elegant eyebrow.  
"Huh? Oh, no! Just- no everything is fine," Hermione nearly babbled.  
Harry stared at her in surprise before he asked, "you alright?"  
"Yes, fine," Hermione said flustered, "let's go!"  
And she took off without waiting for Harry or Michaelis.

The demon stepped forward until he stood next to Harry.  
"What a strange girl," he mused, "and suspicious."  
Dark amusement suddenly coloured his face and he barred his teeth in a smile, showing of the two sharper and longer than normal canines.  
"My, whatever would happen if she were to find out?" he continued.

"Leave her alone!" Harry nearly snarled towards the demon and he turned sharply so he could glare at the creature.  
The demon turned towards him and Harry almost stepped back in fright as he noticed the demonic eyes and the suddenly very sharp teeth.  
The demon prowled forward which made Harry take a step back, and another and another until he was caged between the frightening being and the wall.  
Michaelis lowered his head until it rested next to Harry's ear.  
"Don't worry my little demon," he crooned as he softly and gently nuzzled his neck, "I will not harm her if it's not necessary."  
Harry started to squirm, "let go of me!"  
But the demon just laughed softly and kept nuzzling him.

"Harry!" Hermione's voice suddenly sounded and the demon's head rose from Harry's neck and Harry's head turned quickly towards the sound.  
"Coming!" Harry answered and he started to squirm harder until the demon finally released him.  
Harry quickly took off after his friend, not even bothering with waiting on the demon.

**oOoOoOo  
**  
He watched in silence until his little demon had disappeared from his sight, though he could still hear the pounding of his feet on the stone.

His little demon's scent had changed since the last time that he had smelt it clearly – during that moment in the house of the self-proclaimed Dark Lord. It wasn't the only thing that had changed. His blood had turned a bit more sharper, a bit more spicier and the temperature had risen slightly. Not enough for his little demon to notice but enough that _he_ noticed.  
Add that the child's eyes had flashed red for the shortest moment when he had told him to stay away from his friend and he knew for sure. His little demon was growing up quickly.

It was nothing too strange. The amount of anger the little one was feeling would do that to any being carrying demon blood.  
He smirked darkly, at the rate his little demon was maturing he would be fully grown in a little over a decade. But it would probably be longer as no _human_ being stayed angry that long.  
Until that time, his little demon stayed just that: his little demon. His to care for, his to fight for, his to play with and his to protect. _His_!

**oOoOoOo**

Draco watched jealously as the servant followed after Potter. The man was everything one wanted in a servant: handsome, always neatly dressed in always clean clothing, followed orders as soon as they were spoken, did everything needed before Potter could even open his mouth, carried the boy's bag, served Potter his food as if he were a noble and he guarded him fiercely and possessively – though Potter didn't seem aware of that. And he was magically powerful and smart, not like those disgusting house elves. Everyone else might _think_ that the man was a squik or – a shudder travelled up his spine – a muggle, but he knew better.  
He wanted him to be _his_ servant.

He had tried everything. First he had offered to pay the man more than Potter paid him but the man had told him – _him_ – that he had no interested in either human money or serving him. How could he not want to serve him? He was everything a pureblooded wizard should be! He was handsome, powerful, wealthy, smart and had knowledge. Potter in comparison was weak, ugly and poor – who would want to wear old-fashioned shabby glasses or those holey, dirty, too big clothes – and he had to depend on a _mudblood_ to get the marks he got. Why shouldn't he want to serve him?  
Draco just couldn't wrap his mind around it.

So he offered the servant everything else he could think of: women, slaves, _men_, magical creatures, blood, power and some other things anyone else would have accepted.  
But the servant still declined and dutifully served Potter.

In the end he had asked him what he wanted in exchange for his services. The man had laughed – _laughed_, at him! – and told him that he could never pay what he wanted to have.

Draco had doubted that very much – after all, he was rich and powerful, he could get his hands on everything he needed and if he couldn't, his father could – so he kept pressing and pressing until the servant had told him darkly and rudely in a tone that suggested the _he _was beneath the servant that even if he were capable of paying his prize he would never serve someone so arrogant, self-centred, one-dimensional and _dull_.  
He was not one-dimensional or dull, thank-you-very-much!

He had owled his father that same night to make sure that – when he woke up again – the servant would be gone.  
But the damned man was still there the next day and the letter for his father that arrived during breakfast told him that not even his father – the second most powerful man in the world! – could get him to leave.

So Draco tried to get the man to leave on his own. He tried to sabotage the man's work by poisoning Potter's food, by ordering the elves to switch Potter's things and other things like that but Potter didn't get sick and things that went missing showed up nearly as soon as they went missing.

Thus he had put plan B in motion: get the teachers to kick the man out. He pointed out to Snape that it wasn't fair that Potter had a servant but his godfather told him that Dumbledore had already brushed that argument aside. Stealing the items of teachers and placing them in the servant's room didn't work either because the servant _didn't have_ a room. When he pointed that out towards Snape he was informed that the man _didn't want_ a room.  
When he had asked where the man slept he had gotten the answer that his godfather didn't know.

The next person he had asked was McGonagall. She had told him that it wasn't any of his business but he finally managed to gain the answer out of one of Potter's roommates. The man never slept.

He stared after the servant even after he and Potter had rounded the corner. It was clear that there was something _off_ about the man. He didn't sleep, he didn't eat and he didn't want _human_ money or blood.  
So what could he possibly be?

He shrugged and decided that it didn't matter. The man would have two choices: he could either leave or he could become his servant. He would make sure of it!

* * *

_I hope you guys liked this part!_

_The second part will be up in a couple of days as I'm not completely happy with it yet..._

_Reviews are very much appreciated,_

_~Marwana_


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